Nice to Meet You, Scorpius
by choc0pretz
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy is the most gorgeous boy Rose Weasley has ever met, but he's off-limits. Her father said so, as does Hogwarts tradition. But come seventh year, they're Heads and forced to spend time together, and Rose learns that maybe her attraction isn't all one-sided.
1. What Child Is This

Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

When I first saw him on Platform 9 3/4 on 1 September 2017, the first irrational thought to cross my mind was something along the lines of, "Is this the child of fallen angels?" Some nonsense like that. Even after my dad broke my reverie by going on about beating him in every test, I still had that first impression of him burned into my mind's eye. And then, on the train, I wanted to go look for him, but my unlimited number of cousins decided that Al and I needed sheltering from the big bad world of Hogwarts. So I didn't see him again until after we got off the boats. But by then we were all scared silly in anticipation of the Sorting, so I could only watch as the Hat proclaimed, "Slytherin!" and he walked to join a sea of green, and I later joined my cousins in Gryffindor. I guessed that was the end of that baseless infatuation, because even the young, naive, 11-year-old me knew that Slytherins and Gryffindors don't mix.

So after that, what else could I do? I beat him in every subject, on every test. Doesn't mean that my opinion of his appearance changed one whit. Half the female population at Hogwarts seems to agree with me. Starting fifth year, he frequently has two big-chested girls hanging off of him, they change every other day, and a group of girls follows him around, worshipping the very ground he treads on. But he treats all of them with cold indifference, and I almost feel bad for them. Almost. Slags.

Now we're going into our seventh year at Hogwarts and his (more mature) appearance is still the most gorgeous of any guy I have ever known. Well, "known" is a bit of a stretch. Having a couple N.E.W.T.-level classes together hardly counts, 'cause there's always other students between me and him: if not our own housemates, then Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Oh well. We've been assigned together for a couple in-class projects and, oh Merlin, were they awkward. We had nothing to say to each other. Nothing at all, other than the task at hand. So while the other pairs had lively conversations on the side, Malfoy and I sat in stony silence, barely even looking at each other. But we got the work done faster and better than anyone else, if that's any consolation. Oh boy. A couple of these awkward-beyond-extreme projects, and I stopped wishing to be his partner, preferring to admire him from afar.

On the Hogwarts Express on the first day of seventh year, I stop in surprise after walking into the prefects' meeting. Scorpius Malfoy is Head Boy. He looks equally shocked at seeing the Head Girl badge pinned to my robes.

Well, this should be fun.

If fun means more of those stony silences that were much too familiar during our partner work periods.

Much to my surprise, though, Malfoy, at our first Heads-only meeting, says, "So, Rose. I feel like I don't know you very well, and since we'll be working together for the rest of the year, how was your summer?"

After I recover, I reply, "Fantastic. Played Quidditch every day with my cousins."

"You play Keeper, right?" (I play for Gryffindor during the season.)

I nod. "Yeah. But I almost feel like the field we use during the summer is nicer than the school stadium, 'cause the hoops at school are covered with years of chewing gum discarded by careless Keepers. It's really gross."

Malfoy smiles his angel smile, says, "Then I'll just have to hex anyone who adds to the wreckage."

I laugh. Here's another reason he's so popular among the ladies: he's a goddamn sweet talker. And it sounds so beautiful.

Maybe being Heads won't be so bad after all.

For the first three months, Malfoy and I chat, banter, mostly. It's all very shallow, not meaningful at all. I still barely know the kid. But I'm asking for too much. I should be thankful that we're talking at all. Still, it's never very long before the conversation falls flat, or we turn to work, but never is there a time that he doesn't exercise his golden tongue on me.

It's nice that Malfoy is making an effort to not be awkward, but we still spend most of each meeting, when we're not working that is, sitting in silence, me staring surreptitiously at his face and him looking at his papers. Oh well. It's just one two-hour meeting a week.

One night in early December, the week before the Winter Ball, we are sitting in the Heads' meeting room, planning the dance. It's been nearly two hours without a break, so I lean back in my plush armchair, look at his gorgeous face and say, "You know, Malfoy-"

"Scorpius," he interrupts abruptly. "Call me Scorpius."

I am puzzled by this request; never before this year has he objected to the whole last name thing. I shrug it off and continue, "Well, okay, Scorpius-" but I don't get to continue because suddenly he's on top of me, his legs firmly hooked around my waist, I see his steel-blue eyes, huge pupils for a second before his mouth is on mine, his tongue in my mouth, hands everywhere. _Hey, wait, I did not authorize this, but oh Merlin it feels so good and he's just so gorgeous, so what can I do but just kiss him back?_

Eventually he pulls back, breathing hard, looks shy all of a sudden (Jerk. Who gave him the right to look shy?) so we look away, straighten clothes, and I look longingly at the door, at escape and fresh air until he clears his throat. "So, about the DJ..." and it's like nothing ever happened. We are a machine.

I don't know what to make of it, I don't even know if I can tell my friends without sounding insane, so I just carry on but I don't call him Scorpius anymore. Not if "Scorpius" is gonna do that all the time. Now it's back to Malfoy: Hey Malfoy, Malfoy this, Malfoy-what-about-that, etc.

Imagine how much fun the Winter Ball is, what with being head coordinators, and simultaneously trying to enjoy the night with my friends and avoid Malfoy. Yup. Lots of fun.

A couple days into Winter Break, I just have to tell my best friend and confidante, Alice Longbottom, else I'm gonna burst. So we meet up at a Muggle coffee shop, and when I finish telling her what happened, she looks at me as if I'm nuts, then busts up laughing.

"Will you please calm down a second? I'm having a crisis here!"

She takes a deep breath, pulls a serious face, and ends up doubled over in laughter again. We're getting some weird looks from other patrons, so I drag her outside, where she collapses into the snow, still laughing. So I decide to just talk at her.

"We have nothing to say to each other. Our personalities just don't fit. I mean, I'm sure he has a personality, but it just doesn't come out when he's around me. To me he's just an angelic face and a brain. I feel awkward around him, always. I'm athletic, he's not. We're both outgoing when with friends-" Remember? I spent six years just watching his gorgeous face. "-but I get really goofy around him, trying and failing to break the tension, and he gets all uptight, stiff, formal, but he laughs at me when I do something particularly stupid. It's a nice laugh, but I'm starting to think that all we have in common is that we're both smart. It would never work, there's just no chemistry. WHY did McGonagall assign us to be Heads?" I smash my face into my palms.

Alice has calmed down by now, probably from the cold, and asks, holding her ribs, "You've never called him by his first name before?" I nod. "And the first time you called him 'Scorpius' he attacked you?" Another nod. "And you've never called him 'Scorpius' again since then?"

"Yup. Pretty much," I say flatly.

Alice gets a little devilish look on her face, and I start to worry about the next words out of her mouth: "Try it again. See what happens. The we can gague from there and assess what to do."

The rest of the holiday passes peacefully; I spend time with my (huge) extended family, play Quidditch in the snow, fight in snowball wars, celebrate Christmas and the new year surrounded by friends and family and Nana Weasley's delicious cooking.


	2. Insufficient Data

Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

On the second day back from break, I head to the Heads' meeting room for the first meeting of the new year. It's really very comfortable; I could easily fall asleep on one of the armchairs or even the carpet.

Still somewhat dubious about Alice's plan, I suck in a breath. I've prepared a speech. Because we need to talk about that kiss.

I open the door, and find him sitting on an armchair looking at the stack of papers McGonagall left for us. He looks up when I walk in. He smiles, it's such a gorgeous smile. I grin weakly back in return.

I set my books down on the table. Nothing to hide the shaking in my hands now. "Before we start today, Scorpius, I just wanted to talk to you about-"

But it's happened again. And he has me so tight that I can't get out, and I thought I was the more athletic one here. Maybe it's 'cause I don't actually want to get away, so I give into his kisses again. It's a couple minutes before I am aware of something hard poking into my lower abdomen, and my hands, previously undoing his tie and tangled in his hair, make their way down to fumble with his belt. In a matter of seconds, our clothes are discarded on the floor, along with the tasks that McGonagall set us, and all I know is that I'm lost.

Somehow the Heads' meeting room has sprouted a bathroom in the time that we were, er, occupied. So I make a beeline for it, turn on all the taps in the miniature version of the pool in the prefects' bathroom, and am just about to get into the scented, warm, bubbly tub of goodness when the door opens and Malfoy walks in. Wearing... absolutely nothing. I sigh and close my eyes. "Scorpius, would you please-" _go put some clothes on_ is cut off my my unfortunate memory lapse of what hearing his name does to the boy.

We splash water ALL over the bathroom, but it magically dries, leaving no trace but a light, pleasant scent. I haul myself out fo the tub and grab a fluffy white towel and stagger out of the bathroom, because I am fucking sore, and sleepy to boot. How am I supposed to get back to the Gryffindor tower? When I get back into the main meeting space, I notice another door that wasn't previously there. In my absence of mind, I walk over, pull the door open and find... a king size bed, with fluffy pillows and tidy sheets. It looks absolutely heavenly, so I crawl in. I've just drifted off when the covers are pulled off. I open my eyes and glare groggily at the intruder... "Malfoy." He starts to climb in with me and I somehow can't muster the energy to tell him to go away, or to ask him what the HELL that was about. Earlier. So I sigh in resignation, turn my back, and mumble, "Goodnight, Scorpius." It hits me what I've just said, for the third time tonight, one second before Scorpius pins me underneath him and leaves a trail of butterfly kisses from my neck down my abdomen. Neither of us is wearing any clothes after that _bath_...

Stupid Rose.

The next morning, in the Great Hall, Alice sits down in front of me as I sleep on my breakfast. A stack of toast makes a halfway decent pillow, you know. Particularly French toast. But no syrup, because that will get in your hair.

"Well?" Alice demands as I pull my head from the table. "Why didn't you come back to the Gryffindor tower last night?"

I consider lying to her, tell her that nothing happened, but I'm too tired and sore to care. I'll probably regret this later, but whatever. I tell her. By the time I finish, she's doubled over laughing her head off. She laughs for a good ten minutes before she calms down enough to choke out, "So you're saying that if I want a damn good shag, I should just go call Malfoy by his first name?"

I look away, see Scorpius across the Great Hall, staring at me. I meet his eyes and he quickly turns away... in the direction of Monique Valentine, one of his slags, stalking toward him, looking like she's about to eat him.

"Scorpius," she says, well, shrieks, the sound carrying across the Great Hall. Alice and I share a look, then turn toward the scene, curious to see how Malfoy will react to hearing his first name. Malfoy just looks bored and Alice turns toward me; I am sitting in horrified shock. "So it's just when _YOU_ say his first name, Rose, he becomes a sex monster."

I'm still in shock, but it's wearing off, and I _have_ to voice objections to what Alice is saying. "It's totally different, because we're in public. Besides, before last night, Malfoy had showed about as much interest in me as he's showing to that screaming bimbo right now." I've hit on a logical train of thought, so I plow forward. "So before you can make that conclusion, you have to see how Malfoy reacts in private with just any other girl, and what happens if I call him Scorpius in public."

Alice smirks at me. "Okay, Rose. Be that way. So which one do you want to try first?"

I return my face to my palms.

This is Alice's plan: First ask Skye Finnigan, a Malfoy fangirl and one of our Gryffindor yearmates, to ask Malfoy to postpone from Tuesday to Wednesday because "Rose is particularly overwhelmed this week by homework, tutoring, extra Quidditch practice, and a slight cold." Then, the next day, ask Eva Finch, a Hufflepuff seventh year in our Charms class and previously seen as a piece of Malfoy arm candy, to go tell Malfoy that Rose is running a little late. Both girls will receive specific instructions to call him Scorpius, not Malfoy, even though Alice is pretty sure that his slags don't need that instruction. Alice will stand by, under Al's invisibility cloak, to observe Scorpius' reaction. Later, I'll call Malfoy by his first name in two public locations: in class, and in the hallway.

Wednesday evening, after a somewhat tense meeting with Malfoy, I walk through the Gryffindor common room, catch Alice's eye, beeline up to the girls' dormitory (which is thankfully empty), and flop down on my bed. I'm inexplicably nervous about Alice's news. I sort of want to hear that Malfoy also attacked Skye and Eva, because that would mean I could write off the last month and get on with my life, with no Malfoy relationship complications, but I also don't want to hear that, 'cause, well, I have an ego and I do want special treatment by the most attractive boy at our school.

Alice walks through the door, and my face falls upon seeing her expression: shining with excitement. "Nothing, neither of them, and Eva even squeezed into your meeting room space-Merlin, it looked so comfortable-" she smirks at me and I stick my tongue out like a five-year-old, "-and was completely mushing her boobs all over Malfoy's arm, but he just shoved her off and kicked her out. And Skye yesterday, he just looked bored, thanked her for telling him, and walked off with Zabini. I think he really does have it hot for you, Rose," she finishes conspiratorially. I close my eyes, willing this to be not true, and hear myself protesting weakly about incomplete data.

A week and a half later, Malfoy and I are assigned as project partners in Arithmancy. I'm nervous again, I'm always nervous around Malfoy these days, so I distract myself by inwardly cursing my logical brain and curiosity to know about Malfoy. Still, halfway through the period, I manage to say, "Scorpius, what do ou make of this-" pointing at a line in the text that I find particularly interesting. Malfoy looks at the text and pauses, as if thinking, but underneath the table, he's perfectly active. He's sitting across from me, and his legs are currently engaged in rubbing against mine. My stomach swoops and a feeling of, I don't know, something unpleasant, washes over me. What am I gonna do about this? I resurface from these thoughts, realize that his legs aren't tangled with mine anymore, but instead he's moved to sit next to me, so that we can both look at the textbook the same direction, and he's halfway onto my seat, so that his arse is squished up against mine and his hand is now massaging my thigh, which feels surprisingly nice... No, Rose, pull yourself together. I have to draw the line when his hand starts making its way up my skirt, his thumb brushes some sensitive patch of skin, so I shove him away, and reach for something in my bag. Anything. He sort of gets the idea, moves back to his own seat, and the closest he gets for the rest of class is just a hand resting on my knee, thumb tracing light circles that leave me feeling giddy.

I can't bring myself to look at Alice's expression when I tell her what happened that evening, but when I don't hear her laughing, I look at her face. She's-for lack of a better word-astounded. It looks like she's just been hit in the face with a hammer. "Rose, I'm telling you..."

I decide to give Malfoy some time to cool off before catching up to him after Arithmancy one day at the beginning of February, and say, "Scorpius, I just wanted to check, we have a Heads' meeting tonight?" Halfway through, he takes my arm and pulls me into a deserted hallway and pushes me into a niche in the wall. I'm trapped by his body shoved up against mine and I feel the same hardness in his pants as the other night. Apparently it's true, hearing his first name out of my mouth really does make the boy horny.

He's already pushed my skirt up and pulled my leg to hook around his body, and is kissing my neck, when I ask, "Scorpius?" I'm embarassed by how breathy my voice sounds. He responds by moving to kiss my mouth, but I push his face away, which makes him pay more attention. He pouts, and I take advantage of this eye contact to ask, "About that other night... why?" I can't find anything else to say.

"Because I want you, you're beautiful, you know, you and your brain." Well, I'm flattered, angel child thinks I'm beautiful, I'm flattered, but he's still talking. "And I thought you wanted it too." He looks worried now, his hands are positioned at my bra clasp but they've stopped moving now.

I decide to avoid the underlying question and mention one of my insecurities, "Well, I just didn't want to be another one of your one-night conquests... random hookups..."

He laughs and lowers his forehead to mine and breathes, "You? Never. Never, Rose. I was a virgin up until that night with you. I promise. Use Veritaserum if you don't believe me, but you're so different from all the other girls." He looks so earnest, and I'm melting under the intensity of his stormy blue-gray gaze, but I just can't get past the fact that we've spent more time shagging than talking about meaningful things, learning more about each other. So I tell him, and he immediately backs away. I almost regret telling him, because I want the warmth and pressure of his body back.

"Okay," he says very seriously, and pauses. I'm a little worried about what's next, but it's okay.

"Want to try this from the start?"

When I stare blankly at him for a couple seonds, completely puzzled, he sticks out his hand, says, "Hi, I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

I smile at him, shake his hand, saying, "Nice to meet you, Scorpius, I'm Rose Weasley."


End file.
